


Used to This

by RoseAlenko



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 15:16:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15391596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseAlenko/pseuds/RoseAlenko
Summary: In spite of everything they’re already up against, Poe finds himself wishing he could shield Rey from any further pain and loss. She deserves a better life than the one she’s been dealt. Of course, she’s tougher than most, probably the last woman in the galaxy who needs saving. That doesn’t mean she has to do it all alone.Hell, maybe they can save each other.





	Used to This

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a tumblr prompt I received to write cuddling in public/in front of other people. Just some short fluff! Decided to post it here in case anyone is interested. 
> 
> I don't really write Star Wars or this pairing so I'm sure this is a bit rusty but I hope it's alright!

“Here,” Poe says, shrugging free of his jacket and holding it out to Rey. She’s sitting huddled with her knees drawn up under her chin on the lounge sofa. Again. She’s always shivering, though she does her best to hide it. Her chattering teeth and the gooseflesh along her exposed arms are plain to see but still she sets her jaw and shakes her head at him.

“I’m fine,” she declares resolutely.

Poe gets it. Really, he does. After all, losing his mom young, he knows what it’s like to have to do some things on your own. But Rey’s got this fiercely independent streak in her that’s borne of growing up with nobody at all. She doesn’t like being looked after. And why would she? Her whole life she’s had only herself to rely on, all alone on that hostile hunk of rock where she grew up.

So he knows better than to back off at her first, gut instinct to refuse help or kindness.

“It gets cold in space.” Poe settles the jacket over her slender back and plops down in the seat next to her on the couch. There’s plenty room, but he sits directly beside her, near enough to smell the flowery scent of her hair. 

“It does,” she agrees quietly, watching him out of the corner of thoughtful, brown eyes. After a minute she relents, pulling the jacket a little snugger round her trembling frame. 

He notices her gaze move from his face to the other occupants of the holo room then—Leia at the far end of the bench, engrossed in some information on a readout in her lap with Connix sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of her; BB beeping happily at R2 in the opposite corner; Finn and Rose sitting side-by-side on the bunks behind them, talking in hushed voices with their heads close together.

Poe feels all their presence, too. It’s the only reason he hesitates before raising his arm and extending it over the seatback behind her. If he had it his way it would be just the two of them in here, just him and Rey and the quiet hum of the Falcon’s engines.

He’s been more than a little infatuated with her since their first, fateful meeting, when she’d saved them all back on Crete with nothing but a wave of her hands to lift the rubble away and the beat-up, old freighter to escape in. He’d never seen anyone do something like that before, and while Finn rushed ahead to embrace his friend, Poe had hung back, frozen in wonder.

They’ve struck a tentative sort of closeness since then—meals in the lounge, co-piloting the Falcon and arguing strategy and flight techniques, trading stories from the past. Shared trauma has a way of knitting people together.

In spite of everything they’re already up against, Poe finds himself wishing he could shield Rey from any further pain and loss. She deserves a better life than the one she’s been dealt. Of course, she’s tougher than most, probably the last woman in the galaxy who needs saving. That doesn’t mean she has to do it all alone.

Hell, maybe they can save each other.

As if sensing his thoughts, Rey’s eyes swivel to him again. They’re softer now, the familiarity they’ve built chipping away at her guard. Some days, she seems uneasy about letting him in—especially with an audience—and the ship’s tight quarters don’t afford them much privacy. But Poe’s been around the galaxy enough to read people, and under all that spitfire individualism he admires in her, he can see that Rey feels something for him, too. A spark that’s been there all along, igniting in that first moment when she discovered to her delight that he already knew her name long before she introduced herself.

She’s never had a place to belong before, but she belongs here. With him. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs, wriggling her arms inside the jacket to wear it properly. 

It suits her. Poe nods at her gratitude, a flare of warmth blooming to life in his gut at the sight of her. There’s something satisfying about seeing her in his clothes, arresting him with a possessive longing.

“I’m not used to this,” Rey continues, her stare holding his.

“What, the cold?” he asks, leaning involuntarily nearer, the better to hear the almost-whisper of her voice.

She giggles, shaking her head slightly. “That, too, I suppose. It was hot on Jakku. Sweltering, every day. Sweaty.”

Poe swallows. His eyeline drops to her mouth, the inviting fullness of her lips. 

Is she flirting with him or is that just wishful thinking? Her choice of words has his mind conjuring images it really ought to avoid in mixed company. Rey in his arms, her mouth hot against his, clad in nothing _but_ his dark jacket, skin slick with sweat that’s got nothing to do with the desert sun. He wants nothing more than to pull her close and breathe her in, hold her so she’s never cold again.

He only realizes he’s holding his breath when his eyes go hazy. Poe exhales sharply, refocusing on Rey to find her smirking at up at him. She’s not shivering anymore.

He’s about to sit upright again when she reaches back and clasps his hand. Maybe it’s the Force or maybe it’s just _her_ , but the brush of her skin on his always sets his nerves off like an electric shock.

She guides his hand down to her waist, anchoring his arm fast around her. Her head tips over to rest on his shoulder, warm against his flesh through his t-shirt.

Poe only hopes she can’t hear the way his heart is hammering with the force of canon blasts in his chest. He’s wanted to make a move for so long, just never found the right time, never wanted to rush her. And maybe a little part of him was scared, too. He can face down the full force of the First Order, no problem. And it’s not as if romance has ever really daunted him before. 

But Rey is different. Special.

Strong and vulnerable at once. The only person in the galaxy who can match him in a cockpit, despite his insistent exclamations to the contrary. She’s beautiful and gentle and smart and stubborn, and she’s cozying up against him three feet away from Leia like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Poe chances a glance over to see the older general smiling knowingly at her work in her lap, but she doesn’t look up.

“I’m not used to _this_ ,” Rey corrects him, nestling in the crook of his neck so he can feel the heat of her breath at his throat. “To having someone.”

His chest is pleasantly full and tingly, his pulse rushing like he’s flying without his X-Wing. Poe squeezes her hand reassuringly in his where they’re still entwined at her side.

“ _Get_ used to it,” he orders playfully, twisting to press a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s about time I found a good co-pilot.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to drop a comment if you like it :)


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